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My dad is the 7th of eight children from an insanely poor black family from Detroit that were all raised in a weird mostly black Catholic church offshoot. Of the eight kids, only three are still alive, him being the only son. My dad moved to Los Angeles when he was 21 (where he met my white hippie mom who escaped her abusive Jehova's Witness family at 16) and they had my brother and I. Both were determined not to repeat the colossal fuckups of their parents, including their weird religious upbringings. We moved to the PNW a few years after I was born where you don't really ever see open or in-your-face religiosity like you do in Alabama or something. No singing of prayers in schools or anything like that. We never went to church ever, nor talked about anything religious. Both of my parents are ostensibly atheist, or at the very most strictly agnostic. We still had Christmas and Easter celebrations, but in reality it was mostly in the sense that we had Yule in December and chocolate in April. For most of my childhood I just thought they were just traditional American holidays and had no idea they were originally from religion. I'm extremely thankful I was raised this way as I have no trauma, no hangups, my marriage is extremely stable and satisfying, and I have great friends of a similar upbringing that I've known since childhood who are the same way. People say that I am probably one of the more content, successful and happy people they've ever known. If I ever have kids I will raise them the same way. That's my story, thanks for reading and god bless your mess
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Jul 14, 2023 23:39
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| # ¿ May 18, 2024 00:03 |
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